


Written in Your Heart

by MoonlightShines (Thatkillervibe)



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Caitlin Snow Isn't Killer Frost, F/M, Inspired by Barbie as The Princess and the Pauper (2004), fairytale AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:53:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23265760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thatkillervibe/pseuds/MoonlightShines
Summary: Once upon a time, in a village high on the mountaintop, two identical baby girls were born. One, into royalty and was named Princess Caitlin. The other, to a poor family working under a harsh dressmaker. They named her Frosteline.With lives so different, it wasn’t surprising that the Princess and the Pauper never met.But fate decreed they would.
Relationships: Cisco Ramon & Caitlin Snow, Cisco Ramon/Caitlin Snow, Killer Frost & Cisco Ramon, Killer Frost/Ronnie Raymond, Ralph Dibny & Killer Frost
Comments: 18
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I guess you can call this my corona fic. Please stay safe!

Long ago, and far away, in a central village high on a mountaintop, something amazing happened. At the very same moment, two identical baby girls were born. One, a baby Princess. The King and Queen were overjoyed, for they had been longing for a child all their lives. Princess Caitlin would have only the finest. The second baby girl was named Frosteline. Her parents loved her every bit as much as the King and Queen loved Princess Caitlin. But they worried, fighting to make ends meet under the employment of a compassionless dressmaker.

Many years passed and the Princess learned her royal duties, while Frosteline worked long and hard as a seamstress for the spiteful Miss Amunet. Frosteline's parents were long gone, resting in the cemetery under the grass. They had died in the same accident that took the life of King Thomas when Princess Caitlin and Frosteline were only twelve.

With lives so different, it wasn’t surprising that the Princess and the Pauper never met. But fate decreed they would.

It all started at the Royal Mine, when the miners informed the Queen the gold had run out. The widowed Queen was shocked. The Kingdom would now surely go bankrupt. People would starve, find no work and will perish under these conditions. How was she going to take care of them with no more resources? If only she could call on her trusted advisor Hunter Zolomon, but he was away on a long journey to Star Kingdom. She needed to do something quickly to save the kingdom before they’d turn against the monarchy, or worse, each other.

But what?

And then it struck her. Nearby lived a rich young King who was seeking a wife.

~.~

“Damn it,” Frosteline groaned, nursing her bleeding thumb at her hundredth prick of the day. “I just want a day to myself!”

“I hear you, sister,” Ralph, her only friend chimed in from his own stitching across the room. After hours upon hours of labour in the dreary basement of Miss Amunet’s Dress Emporium, it often felt as though Ralph were the only other person on the planet. “You think the woman would hire more help.”

“Hire more help?” Frosteline repeated incredulously. “We’re only here because we’re indentured servants, Ralph. Nobody in their right minds would willingly work here.”

“Yeah, well. Nobody but our dear old dead parents, right?” Ralph stood up, cracking his back from lack of exercise. He walked across the room to inspect Frosteline’s injury. “Let me look at it. You’re bleeding.”

Frosteline waved him off. “I’ll be fine.” She closed her eyes and hummed her mother’s old nursery rhyme as the cut stitched itself back together.

Ralph didn’t like how her eyes glowed when she used her power. He made a noise of consternation, returning to his pile of fabric. “You’re lucky that Miss Amunet hasn’t yet accused you of witchcraft.”

Frosteline froze over the wedding gown she had just crocheted. “Don’t call it that. I told you—I was born like this.”

“It’s where you got your name, right, yes, I heard the story before. I just worry about your safety, Frost. Don’t think I don’t know you do magic shows in the village at noon.”

“I make some snow for extra change. So what? The people like it.”

Footsteps went thundering down the stairs. The two ran back to their workstations.

“It’s not the people I’m scared of,” Ralph muttered under his breath.

“I’m hearing whispers. What is this? A gossip club?”

“I would’ve said a debtor’s prison,” Frosteline replied automatically. Ralph gaped at her from across the room. She too realized her mistake. She tended to talk before she used her brain. It was something she needed to work on.

“Keep laughing, my lovely!” Amunet surveyed their work. She beamed, at the finished gown on Frosteline’s desk, showing all her teeth. “You’ll be working for me for another thirty-seven years!”

“But I already paid off more than half!”

Amunet hummed, undisturbed. “Oh, but haven’t you heard? The kingdom is going into a recession. So I’ve decided to remember....What was it again?" She drummed her fingertips against her face, pretending to ponder, then clapped her hands suddenly. " _oh yes!_ There’s an interest, isn’t there? Your parents should’ve thought of that before they borrowed so much.”

“They did it to feed her!” Ralph snapped. Amunet glared as he shrunk back in his wooden seat. 

“Their mistake.” She took the finished wedding gown and stuffed it in a box without so much of another word.

Ralph mimed sticking a finger down his throat. Frosteline’s mouth twisted in disgust. She hated her too.

~.~

Cisco turned the page of his leather-bound book. “That concludes your lesson in chemistry. Not that you needed it.” 

The princess gave a reluctant sigh, looking up at him through her long eyelashes. “Already?”

“Afraid so, Your Highness. Any questions?”

All too well he knew Princess Caitlin mastered the subject. Still, the question posed became his favourite part of their scheduled time together, when the role of tutor and student bled into two best friends enjoying each other’s company.

“Yes,” she said, poking at his tunic. “Do you believe it possible to discover more elements that would expand the periodic table?”

”Absolutely!” He nodded enthusiastically. “But not more likely than reaching the heavens, Caitlin.”

The princess scooted her chair closer, leaning into her best friend’s side. Her cat, Bart, scratched his head against her leg. “You mean...” she lowered her voice before glancing aside, wary of her maidservants’ eavesdropping. “Extrapolating from the theories of Galileo and travelling to space?”

Cisco grinned at her. “Precisely.” He laughed at her scandalized gasp. “Calm down, I’m jesting—”

_“Cisco! That’s not funny!”_

Ah, his heart stuttered in his chest. He’d never tire of hearing his name from her lips. She placed her hand over his arm and urged him to share his latest study.

A knock on the door interrupted their moment, and Caitlin immediately removed her touch, leaning away.

Harrison Wells, or Harry, as the royal family has grown accustomed to calling him, marched in with a long list and adjusted his spectacles. “We’re late! Late, late, late!”

“Good morning Harry,” Caitlin greeted, hiding her dismay. Cisco rolled his eyes. It wasn’t that they disliked him. He was always to the point with his messages, and delivered them rather gruffly, but not unkind. Their annoyance had more to do with the fact every time Harry came to interrupt Caitlin’s lesson with Cisco, it meant the tutor had to go. 

“Yes, yes. Good day, Your Highness,” he nodded at Cisco. “Greetings Ramon. Enough with the pleasantries. It is now time for your royal fitting, Princess. The gown just arrived this morning.”

Princess Caitlin’s joy soured immediately, but she did not let her emotions show. “Yes, of course.” 

“—It must last twenty, maximum twenty-two minutes, and then you have to rush, and I mean _rush_ to your horticultural society tea. Then—”

Caitlin tuned Harry out as Cisco shot her an apologetic smile.

He packed his books hastily, “I best be on my leave.”

“Oh no, Cisco. Please stay.”

He hesitated, fiddling with the strap of his worn satchel, but could not ever deny the Princess anything. He nodded, watching as two maidservants ushered Caitlin behind the dresser to make alterations for her gown. “Maybe a few minutes more.”

When she stepped out in silks and white tulle, his eyes lingered only on her face.

She turned around on the step stool where the seamstresses fussed over the ribbons and bows when he called her name.

“Yes?”

“You’ll make a lovely bride.” His fingers twisted deep in the leather of the strap across his chest. Caitlin felt tears well up in her eyes, so many complicated words stuck in her throat. She could only manage to nod as Cisco suddenly left.

She couldn’t blame him for not wanting to stay, she thought, as she watched him through her window. He was smelling the roses to record in his field journal in her palace gardens. As if he could sense her, he lifted his eyes from the flower he had to his nose up to her wing of the palace. The corners of his mouth tugged into a gentle smile as his hair blew in the breeze. Cisco waved at Caitlin. Her fingertips pressed against the glass as her heart sighed.

Harry came back with a large box, clearing his throat. Her mother, the Queen, strolled behind. “Look, another engagement gift!”

The Princess didn’t reply. The Queen bit her lip as she caught her daughter watch the tutor make his way out the royal gates and into the village. “You know it is vital you marry King Ronald. It’s the only way to take care of the kingdom.”

Caitlin didn’t reply for some time, drawing strength from within and distanced herself from the window. She shot Harry and her mother a shaky grin and exhaled. “I know, and I will. It’s my duty.”

~.~

In the deep dark caves of the Royal Mine, Hunter Zolomon celebrated his homecoming. 

“It’s great to see you back boss,” Eddie Slick told him, wiping the grime off his forehead. “But you’re...early.” His accomplice, Sterling Brooks, popped out of their cart holding up a small black nugget. 

Hunter snatched it out of Sterling’s hand. “What idiot put this here!?” 

Sterling grinned as Eddie smacked his forehead from second-hand embarrassment. “Uh. Me?” 

“We’re stealing _gold._ This is coal.” He knocked the worthless rock against Sterling’s skull as if in an attempt to knock some wit into it. He turned to Eddie. “Where’s the rest?” 

Eddie pointed to a bag in the dirt. “That’s the last of ‘em.” He watched eagerly as his boss inspected the bag of gold. “So, what’s our cut?” 

Hunter laughed. “You think you’re getting any of this?” 

Eddie frowned. “While you were off frolicking in Star Kingdom, we were here doing all your dirty work. You told us we’d get paid.” 

Hunter glared. It was not frolicking. For over ten years Hunter had to play lapdog to the King and Queen as the royal advisor. Forced to do this, demanded to do that. It was hard, tedious work that never went appreciated. Nor should it be. The work given to him was insulting. Hunter Zolomon was not born to serve people or follow orders like cattle. No. Every minute spent under the directives of the Queen made his blood curdle ever since his plan ten years ago went awry and he only managed to kill a third of the Royal Family he needed out of his way to ascend the throne.

“And you will.” He leaned against the cart and rattled it along the tracks, urging Sterling to climb out and pay attention. “When I become King.” 

“Right, right,” said Sterling, but he was clearly lost. “And how exactly is that related to us getting all this gold again?” 

_“Because,”_ Hunter said through gritted teeth, regretting his hasty choice of picking two desperate miners to do work for him. He’d fire Sterling if he could, but he knew too much now and was simply not worth the effort to kill. “Now I have all the wealth in the kingdom and the Queen will have no choice but to wed her only daughter to _me._ How could she refuse?” 

“Easily! Princess Caitlin treats you so coldly!” Sterling blurted. “She’d never agree to that.” 

“Who said the nitwit had any agency to make that decision?” he shot back. “She has to follow her mother’s orders. And who’s her mother’s advisor? _Me.”_

Eddie and Sterling shared a look. 

Hunter narrowed his eyes. “What?” 

Eddie looked anywhere but his boss’ steely gaze. “It’s just that….The Queen had decided to marry off Princess Caitlin to the King of Dulcinea.” 

In a fit of rage, Hunter knocked the cart over with Sterling in it. “She _what?!”_

“Yeah…” Eddie said, wringing his hands. “You were gone a long time. She didn’t know what to do.” 

“I guess the gig’s up, huh boss?” said Sterling, crawling from the rocks.

“Hardly.” Hunter yanked the bag of gold from Eddie’s arms. He needed to visit the Queen immediately to fix this. “And if you ruin this for me neither of you will be making it out of this mine alive.” 

~.~

“Cisco!” Caitlin lit up as her favourite person walked into her bedroom. “Perfect timing." She lifted up her latest discovery from her walk behind the palace kitchens. "I classified this as iron pyrite. Pretty, but not considered valuable. Commonly known as ‘fool’s gold, as you taught me last Spring, isn’t that correct?”

Cisco smiled. “Very good, Your Highness.”

Caitlin frowned, brushing her hair back behind her ear. “ _Your highness?_ Why the sudden formality.” He only ever called her that in the presence of other palace workers. She looked around to see if they had company, but they were all alone. “It’s just me.”

“Your mother sent me. Apparently, the Ambassador has arrived with a gift for you.”

Caitlin felt lightheaded. The iron pyrite fell to the floor. “The Ambassador? He’s here already?”

Cisco nodded and went to grab her tiara from the pillow next to her bed. He placed it carefully upon her head, smoothing down the stray curls around it. “There,” he said. “No fool’s gold here.”

“No,” the Princess agreed faintly, distracted by the warmth of her tutor’s brown eyes. He looped her hand around his arm and escorted her to the throne room.

~.~

The Ambassador was a lot younger than the Queen, Harry or The Advisor thought. Tall, dark and handsome, with a dashing smile, he bent low at the waist upon the royals’ arrival and introduced himself with his gift. His travelling companion was an old fellow with crow’s feet and stood several steps away.

“On behalf of King Ronald, I present to you this engagement gift.”

The Queen took it graciously, promising the Princess would love it. She glanced at the grandfather clock mounted by the wall. Surely the tutor would’ve brought the Princess in already. 

"Harry," she said. "Didn't I send the tutor to go tell the Princess about the Ambassador?"

"You did, Your Highness," Harry confirmed. He adjusted his spectacles and looked down at his parchments. "I don't see them taking much more time, but the schedule of the Princess is already packed enough, we better not delay." 

"No," said the Advisor, agreeing with the Messenger even though he couldn't stand him either. "We better not." 

The travelling companion cleared his throat. “May I enquire, your Excellency, if you’ve set a date for the wedding?”

The Queen paused to mull it over. “Will two weeks from today do?”

Hunter nearly fell out of his chair but recovered quickly. “Two weeks! Fast and diligent, what a wonderful decision, Your Majesty.”

“Excellent!” said the companion, sharing a glance with the Ambassador. He nudged his shoulder when the Ambassador didn't say anything. “Excellent, isn't it, Ambassador Stein?”

The Ambassador’s eyes widened as if he had just remembered his position. “I will…uh. I’ll send for King Ronald right away so that he may meet his new bride.” His gaze drifted to the portrait of Caitlin mounted next to the windowpane.

"I apologize for my daughter's absence," The Queen said. "If you stay for tea, I'm sure she'll be here shortly."

The Queen gestured at Harry to escort them to the tea rooms. "Come, Hunter. There's much we have to discuss." 

~.~

Like clockwork, Frosteline slipped out the front door at noon. It was when Miss Amunet took her lunch break in the tea shop across the village, which meant she had a whole hour to herself to sneak out. Ralph followed closely behind. 

“What Ralph?” 

“You forgot your cape,” he said, waving the old blue thing in the doorway. It was the nicest piece of clothing she owned. Probably because she barely ever got to leave the Dress Emporium, so it never had the chance to soil. 

“Thank you, _mother_ ,” she grumbled under her breath but accepted it as Ralph put it over her shoulders. She snapped her fingers at Iridescence to get her to come, the cat Ralph had found in the street a few months ago. They’ve been hiding her from Miss Amunet for a while. 

“Be safe out there,” he called out. “And don’t do that scary voice thing in front of any children!” 

Frosteline rolled her eyes.   
  


~.~

“Cisco.” Caitlin's hand tightened on his elbow. “I can’t go in.” Her eyes darted down the long corridor and her heart pounded up in her ears. “I’m not ready,” she panicked. “I can’t go in.”

Cisco was about to reassure the princess that it’ll be alright, but one look at her was all he needed to realize how Caitlin was spiralling. 

“Okay,” he soothed, running his hands up and down the sleeves of her gown. “It’s okay, my sweet. You’re here. I’m with you. You’re— shaking?”

“This is all too fast! Five days ago I was being told I’d get married and now the Ambassador is here? Cisco, I can’t—”

”Then we won’t. We won’t go.” Her breath hitched, and he could tell her tight corset could not possibly be helping. Three halls down was the old library with a balcony window. It used to belong to the King. They’d sometimes study there when they needed a peaceful moment alone. Perhaps, she needed some fresh air. 

Cisco brought her to the balcony, sitting against the ledge as the Princess paced, pressing her palms over her eyes. 

“I do everything!” she wailed. “Everything for my mother and the memory of my father. Everything for Hunter and Harry but this…” she let out a weak huff, sliding her hands into her hair and digging her fingers into the combs of her tiara. 

“I know.”

_Cisco, I’m scared,_ she almost said. But somehow she felt he already knew. Instead, she sucked in a deep breath and wiped the stray tear from her flushed cheek. She kicked off her shoes, padding barefoot until she sank to the floor in her pink dress, looking out the balcony. She turned to Cisco, who had been watching her with careful concern. 

“What do you think King Ronald will be like?” 

It took a while for him to say anything. “I’m sure he’ll be…suitable.”

“I know I have to marry him, but sometimes I wish…Well.” Caitlin clasped her hands together behind her back and sighed.

She thought about her panic in the palace hall. _My sweet,_ he’d called her. Did Cisco really mean that? Caitlin’s heart picked up speed. It wasn’t the first time he’d slipped and given her an affectionate name either. She’d always chalked it up to his joyous personality, or that maybe he considered her as a sister, but what with the way he’d been talking to her lately, she wondered if there was something...more. 

Cisco’s brown riding boots swung leisurely as he waited for her to say something. When she didn’t, he continued to awkwardly carry on the conversation. “I heard he’s a lover of flatbread and cheese!”

Caitlin wrinkled her nose. “What’s that?”

“A type of food, I’m sure.” Cisco looked out, following Caitlin’s wistful gaze out at the kids playing in the garden. 

Reality settled back into Caitlin’s bones. The little treasure chest in her heart full of her love for Cisco would have to lock away. There was no use, wondering. Cisco’s pay for her tutoring barely covered his own expenses. The Princess had to look out for the entire kingdom. 

“I know it’s selfish, but it feels like the beginning of the end of my life,” she admitted in a whisper.

“Caitlin….” Cisco slid down from his seat on the ledge, kneeling in front of her. 

“Hmm?” 

He offered her his hand. She took it without hesitation. 

“You’re going to need your cape.”


	2. Chapter 2

With Bart mewling quietly in her arms and her blue cape over her head, Princess Caitlin and Cisco managed to slip out quietly from the back meadows. He brought her through a secluded path which led to cracked cobblestoned and soon enough, they were in the heart of the village. 

Caitlin felt the tension in her shoulders and back leak away as she took in the new surroundings. It has been an awful long time since she had left the palace, and even longer since she had made a journey through her own kingdom by foot. The road was full of vendors and children playing, wives with eggs in baskets and blacksmiths working out front of their shops. It was amazing. 

“There’s nothing like some fresh air and a change of scenery,” said Cisco. 

“I wish it were that simple." 

Bart squirmed, demanding to be put down. Caitlin let him go, and he wandered off ahead of them. 

“Do you think he’ll be okay?” she worried. She had never let Bart out of the palace before either. 

  
“We’ll look out for him.” He smirked at her wryly. “I doubt a cat of his stature would get very far around the likes of here.” 

“Are you calling my cat fat?” 

Cisco scoffed. “You feed him off a golden platter and he has his own canopy. What I’m calling him is  _ spoiled _ .” Caitlin nudged his ribs with her elbow where he was ticklish. “Hey!” 

He shied away, but she persisted until she got a laugh out of him. He lunged back, poking at her sides in a childlike game that had her shrieking until an elderly man glared, muttering something loud enough for both of them to hear and feel chastened about.

They both righted themselves, red in the face as they stammered apologies, quickening their pace around the corner. Once they were out of earshot, Caitlin covered her face with her hand, mortified as Cisco doubled over, gripping his knees and unable to keep in his contagious laughter. The Princess was tremendously ashamed at how much she loved what had just happened. They calmed down and resumed their walk. It still boggled Caitlin's brain. If she were to have lost her composure that badly in the castle, the royal advisor Hunter Zoloman would’ve surely called her a disgrace. 

  
  


“It feels so good to be outside of the castle walls. Nobody knows who I am!” She used the opportunity to loop her arm around his again and indulge in the feeling of leaning into his side. Caitlin hid her smile as Cisco easily continued onwards, not hesitating or pulling away from her contact. It was a bit more than what she’d ever chance at home. 

She sighed as they took their stroll, forcing herself not to obsess over her impending marriage. She took in all the cottages lines up along the road. “So, which one was your house?” 

Since becoming her tutor several years ago, he had acquired his own living quarters in the castle. But Caitlin had heard stories of an older brother, a musician, and his father, a retired shoemaker, too. 

“It’s more of a room, actually. My family couldn’t afford a house.” 

Caitlin stopped abruptly. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean…” 

Cisco gave her a sidelong glance. “I know.” He stood behind her and took her finger, pointing it in the direction of the third floor of a small stone cottage. “That one. Third window to the left. Did all my studies there.” 

Caitlin stared at the dirty little window. Picturing Cisco living his whole life in that singular room. Learning how to read and spell there, sleeping with his family there. Growing up handsome there and intelligent there and oh so terribly kind there, nestled away in the corner of that third story glass window-pane. 

“How did you…?” 

“...Afford so many books?” 

Caitlin blushed. It sounded so rude. 

“I had a tutor myself once, you know. Long ago. Professor Tina McGee.”

Caitlin perked up considerably. Cisco had never told her about his own education before. “A woman?” 

Three little girls scurried past them on the road. The littlest one dropped her bonnet. Caitlin turned to Cisco apologetically before picking up her skirts to run ahead after them. She bent down, her cape flapping behind her as she retrieved the bonnet for her. It was worn and dirtied and did not even fit the child when Caitlin tied the ribbon around her neck. She wondered if the bonnet was worn by each of the daughters through their years. The little girls thanked her, continuing on. 

Caitlin rose from the cobblestone, watching the children with a twinge of regret. Her people really were poor. 

"Sorry about that. I interrupted you."

“Of course,” Cisco responded after a moment, watching the scene fondly, also waving at the children. He took her hand, tucking it back into his elbow. Caitlin hid her gleeful smile.

"Tell me about your professor." 

“She was not a real professor, my sweet." 

Caitlin blinked up at him. "She was to you." 

"Yes. Professor McGee may have not gone to a university but her husband was wealthy and paid for anything she desired. She asked for libraries.”

"So he gave them to her?  And she found you as an intelligent little boy and took you under her care?”

Cisco chuckled. “Something like that.”

“I should write her a letter of thank you, for making the best tutor a Princess could ask for.”

“That’s very kind of you, but there’s no need,” Cisco said. “You couldn’t thank her even if you wanted to. Last Winter she passed from pneumonia.” 

“Oh,” said The Princess. She truly had wanted to write a female intellect. They made their way over a bridge. Caitlin paused to watch the swans. Cisco let go of her and crossed his arms, leaning his back against the wooden fixture. 

“Maybe….” began Cisco, squinting at the bright sun reflecting off the water as Caitlin's gown brustled against his side. “King Ronald will be like Professor McGee's husband. Perhaps he’d encourage your affinity for biology and chemistry.” 

“You mean buy my happiness?” She pursed her lips. 

Cisco frowned. “What—? You love books.”

“My love cannot be bought, Cisco. There is nothing The King could give me to substitute a fulfilling marriage.”

“You don’t know that,” Cisco argued, though he wasn’t quite sure why he was playing devil’s advocate. “You may fall in love at first sight with the King of Dulcinea.” 

Caitlin remained silent and walked ahead. Cisco followed at a distance, giving her some space. They passed a wildflower garden and Cisco stopped to pick one. 

“Dahlia pinnata,” he offered, unable to bear the silence any longer. It was a lovely soft and full pink. 

“My favourite.” Caitlin took it gratefully for what it was. She brought it to her nose and bit her lip. “But you knew that.” 

“Tell you what,” he said. He took back the flower to snap the stem and gently placed it in her hair under her hood. “When you meet him, and undoubtedly swoon over his Kingly-ness, you will owe me an empty bottle of your favourite perfume.” 

“My favourite perfume!” Caitlin exclaimed. “What would you need that for?” 

“To store the scent I’ll recreate with your favourite flower for your wedding gift, of course.” 

Cisco gave her a lopsided smile. She shook her head, linking their arms again. She couldn’t trust herself to say anything honest in response, her mind racing with too many dangerous complications. “You promised me a distraction.” 

Before Cisco could say anything more, loud sounds of protest came from Caitlin’s middle when they passed another food vendor. 

Cisco burst out laughing as Caitlin’s hands flew to her noisy stomach, embarrassed. 

“You’re hungry!” 

She nodded meekly. “That smells delicious. We were supposed to have tea with The Ambassador.”

“Yes you were,” he realized. “And you forgot your lunch. I’ll find you something.”

Cisco left her to go fetch the food. Caitlin suddenly remembered Bart. She knew he had followed them past the flower garden but where was he now? She looked behind wagon wheels and firewood carts for the fluffy cat, calling his name. 

Another cat, small and slender, came to her instead. She bent down and scratched behind her ears. “Have you seen my Bart?” 

The cat meowed and trotted off down the adjacent road. Caitlin looked up and did a double-take. Was that...Snow? Her feet followed the feline and flurries before she could stop to think of how far she’d gone from Cisco. 

It  _ was  _ snow. Snow falling lightly over a medium-sized crowd. Caitlin made her way through until she reached the front. There was a woman behind a table from an abandoned vendor’s booth with three clay cups playing a game with onlookers. She presented the empty cups by displaying them to the crowd and promised that they’d no longer be empty by the time she finished shuffling them. The crowd laughed and scoffed as she fumbled around, even accidentally knocking an empty can over in her attempt to mix them. 

“Some show,” the person next to Caitlin grumbled into her ear. “She’s terrible.” 

After a minute of this, she splayed her hands against the splintered edge and beckoned over a man with several coins. “If you pick an empty cup I get your shillings.” 

“You’re ridiculous, lady,” he said, pointing easily at the middle cup. “They’re all empty.” 

The woman wordlessly raised her eyebrow and lifted the middle cup. Out fell a huge block of ice. 

Caitlin’s eyes widened as the crowd gasped, shocked. 

  
“You were saying?” 

Frustrated, the man shoved his money into her can for contributions and pushed his way back through the people to get back onto the road. Suddenly, another woman was throwing coins into her can and another, as they all begged her to restart the game again. 

Just as she peeked inside the can to count her earnings, a tall woman in an overtly extravagant black ensemble yanked it from her grasp. 

“Amunet! Wait! I earned that!” 

“And you owe me, sweetheart!” Caitlin found it particularly cold. The older lady smirked to herself as she pocketed the shillings into her own purse and tossed the can onto the floor. She crushed it under her heel. “You really think you could make a living out of being a con artist? Get back to work, girl. Or there’ll be trouble.” She stalked away and the crowd dispersed. 

Caitlin gave the woman her crumpled can as she helped her pick up the scattered coins that fell out of the cup. 

“Thank you.” 

“How did you do that?” The Princess blurted out. “It was the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen.” 

The woman straightened her cape and dress, standing upright to look at her. “Actually I— _Woah.”_

The Princess also stared in muted shock as they both unveiled their identical hoods at the same time. 

It was like looking into one of her many mirrors in her castle. Caitlin’s heart thudded as she took in the woman with the same eyes as her own. 

The woman seemed far more taken aback than Caitlin. She looked her up and down, eyes trailing on the detailed frills of her dainty shoes. 

“What’s your name?” The Princess implored. 

“...Frosteline,” she replied hesitantly. “And you are…?” 

Caitlin curtsied as she always did when greeting someone new. “Call me Caitlin.” 

Frosteline’s eyebrows flew past her shockingly pale hairline. “You have the same name as the princess?” she deadpanned. She laughed dryly. “What, were your parents monarch enthusiasts?” 

“Ah.” Caitlin blushed. “...Actually….” 

“Oh.” The blood ran from Frosteline’s face.

There was an awkward moment, then Frosteline regained her cool composure and huffed. 

  
“I’m not going to curtsy if that's what you're waiting for."

Caitlin stifled her laugh. In a remark that may have otherwise been offensive, The Princess found the lack of formality from this woman a breath of fresh air. “It doesn’t matter. Nobody is supposed to know I’m here.”

Frosteline’s eyes widened more. “Why not?” 

“I’m savouring my first and last taste of freedom before my wedding in two weeks.” She glanced at her and sighed. “To a total stranger.” 

“At least you’re not an indentured servant.” She began to wipe off the table with an old rag. 

The Princess stopped still. “An indentured servant?” She knew that the economic situation in the Kingdom had grown dire in the last few weeks, but she had never heard of that term in her life. 

Frosteline looked up at her. “Do you not know what that is, princess? A life of unfree labour forced upon you of no fault of your own? To be stuck by the contract of a paternal debt at the threat of total destitution?” 

Caitlin’s eyes widened with horror. 

The hard look on her face softened at The Princess’s speechlessness. She sighed and stuffed the rag into one of the cups. “Of course you don’t,” Frosteline muttered to herself in resignation. “You live in a castle.” 

“Frosteline,” Caitlin’s voice shook. “I am so  _ so  _ sorry.”

“Why? I may be bitter about the inequality but I’m well aware it is no direct fault of your own.” 

“No...But I could not even fathom such hardship.” She glanced away, feeling shame pit at the bottom of her stomach at her turmoil for marrying an unknown King when there were villagers like Frosteline, suffering. “I ring a bell for my hot breakfast.” 

Frost bent down to get another lost coin, crouched in her cloak and apron, she looked back up as she heard the Princess tell her story. 

“Well,” said Frosteline, dusting the grime off discreetly on the sides of her dress. “If  _ I _ want a hot breakfast Miss Amunet makes me pay.” 

Caitlin gasped. “You _starve?”_

Frosteline smirked a little. “It is not _ that _ bad. I’ve gotten rather great at stealing eggs from the coop. My best friend Ralphael cooks a mean omelette.” She paused, staring at the Princess some more. 

“What is it?” Caitlin wondered aloud cautiously. 

  
  


“We’re not that different, the more I think of it.” 

Caitlin raised a delicate eyebrow. “How so?” 

“Not the royal betrothal predicament,” Frosteline hastily added. “You’re on your own there. The uh...Coming out here for freedom. These games of mine are my only reprieve.” She waved a hand absently at the solid blocks of ice melting on her table. 

  
Caitlin remembered the flurries she’d seen that drew her to Frostline. “So you're a magician!” 

“Not really,” Frosteline replied. She began to pack up her cups. “I work for Miss Amunet’s Dress Penitentiary.” 

“Penitentiary?”

Frosteline made a coy smile. “Did I say that? I meant...Dress Emporium.” 

Caitlin knew the name sounded familiar. She looked down at the gold stitching on the inside of her cloak. _Designed by_ _Miss Amunet Black._ “You work for Miss Amunet? I love all of her designs!” 

She unlooped the hook from its clasp and revealed the gown underneath her cloak. “Do you recognize this gown?” 

Frosteline rolled her eyes. “Oh yes, I remember that one. It’s very...pink.” 

“My favourite colour!” Caitlin told her, earnestly. She grabbed onto her cold arm, tugging her out from the booth. “I can’t believe you made this! The design seems so complicated.” She twirled around with a giggle. 

“I’m sorry,” Frosteline blurted out. “But I cannot talk about  _ stitching _ when I’m staring at a woman with my own face. You could be my sister.” 

  
  


The Princess stopped admiring her gown to look at Frosteline some more. She reached forward to finger through Frosteline’s blonde tresses. It was tangled and wavy, swept haphazardly to the side. “Well, except for our hair.” 

“...Maybe we are indeed related.” Frosteline said, sounding far away. "Come with me."

Caitlin frowned. “What is it?” 

Frosteline pulled The Princess into a dark shadowy corner. For all it was abrupt and potentially dangerous, Caitlin did not feel as though she should be scared. 

  
“I need you to tell me the truth about what I’m about to ask you,” the seamstress said.

Caitlin’s heart skipped at the uncertainty. “I will," she promised. 

Frosteline lifted her palm in the air and more flurries swirled around in a mini storm. Her eyes too, began to change colour, glowing bright silver. “Are you similarly cursed?” 

Caitlin took a step back as she took the sight in with wonderment. _“Woah.”_

“Well, are you?” 

“No…” Caitlin breathed, reaching her gloved hand out to catch a snowflake. 

“No, I suppose not. The look of shock on your face makes that certain.” 

The Princess tilted her head up at the sun. It was summer. “How do you…?” 

“I was born like this.” Even Frosteline’s voice sounded different. “It is how I got my name. Frost.” 

“A living  _ Krous. _ ” Caitlin was in awe. “Frost, you are gifted. This is  _ no curse.”  _

Colour flushed against Frosteline’s fair cheeks, as though she had never once been praised. “I thought, maybe, if we were sisters…” 

Caitlin nodded in understanding, returning her attention to the other woman. “Maybe my father had a brother or sister. Where were your parents born?”

Frost bit her lip. “I don’t know. They travelled here from another kingdom before I was born.” 

Every individual from Caitlin’s royal bloodline had one trait in common. Caitlin lowered the shoulder of her sleeve, exposing her skin. “What about this birthmark?” 

Frost checked hers also, her pale skin bare of any marks or imperfections. “No.” 

So they were not twins nor sisters. Only kindred spirits, Caitlin concluded quietly. Still, the possibility of a distant relation had yet to be permanently crossed off her list. 

They returned to Frost’s booth to find Bart sunbathing with the cat that Caitlin had followed to the crowd. 

“You’ve found my Bart.” She chuckled at her kitty, bending down to give him his proper scritches. “What is the name of yours? She’s very small.” 

“She is not my cat,” Frost protested. 

Caitlin eyed her as she scooped it up anyway, unconvinced. 

“Ralph has named her Iridescence. He’s grown attached after he snuck her in during a storm. I might as well bring her back.” 

“She and Bart seem to have taken a liking to each other.” Bart looked up at his Princess, as if in agreement. 

“There you are! I have two fresh hot piping jugs of apple cider and a loaf in my--” Caitlin and Frost both turned at the sound of Cisco’s voice. 

His apple cider jugs fell to the ground, rolling around his boots as he yelped. 

Caitlin giggled behind her palm. Frost made a sound of amusement.

"Caitlin, please tell me I have not tripped and hit my head." 

"You have not tripped nor hit your head, Cisco." Caitlin and Frost shared a knowing look. "It is exactly as you are seeing it." 

“Uncanny!” Cisco circled the two for a good minute. 

Caitlin looped her arm in Cisco’s, smiling sweetly at him. “Cisco, meet my new friend. Her name is Frosteline.” 

For what it was worth, he recovered quickly and bowed in greeting. “Hello, yes. I'm sorry. I was being rude. Good afternoon, Frosteline." 

Frost looked him up and down and snorted. “No, I don’t think I’ll be curtsying to you, either.” 

~.~ 

Cisco left the women alone to return with his caravan to bring Caitlin home. While they waited, Caitlin let Frost demonstrate to her how she set up her game to win in her favour. 

When Cisco’s caravan came to view down the road, the Princess turned to her new friend and grabbed her hand. “I’d love to invite you to the castle one day.” 

Frost’s mouth parted in surprise. “You would? If you have the plans to make a noblewoman of me, I’d like to decline. We are likely not related.”

“That doesn’t matter. It would be nice to have a friend,” she confided. “The only person in my life is my tutor, Cisco, and I know for the sake of my upcoming marriage, I have to let him go.” 

“Why’s that?”

Caitlin blushed, looking aside. “It’s...Complicated.” 

“Ah,” said Frost. Luckily, she’d lost interest. “Well,” she said, pulling up her hood. “I’d never say no to leaving my dungeon, but it would be a mistake to invite someone like me to court.” 

“I highly doubt that,” The Princess reassured. 

Frost snickered, glancing down at her holed boots. “We’ll see.” She gave her new acquaintance a small smile. “You know where to find me.” 

**Author's Note:**

> I am totally down to hear any theories, easter eggs you may have spotted, or suggestions you may have for this fic! <3


End file.
